


This Transient Intermission

by firecube



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mikoto is unusually talkative, Munakata is in denial, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecube/pseuds/firecube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man seemed oddly at peace, and Munakata would probably remember the vague thought that briefly pervaded  his mind – that maybe there was a lot to this man that would make a fine acquaintance, maybe Suoh Mikoto was in fact very interesting –  for years to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Transient Intermission

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: K Project and its characters belong to GoRa.

“Oh, look who’s here . . . ” It was a slow, disinterested drawl with which Suoh acknowledged Munakata’s presence, but it was a seemingly sober one all the same.

“Good evening.” Munakata’s consequent greeting was rather inappropriate, considering the person it was directed to, to such a degree that he had to hold back a grin at his own incidental awkwardness.

He found it slightly odd . . . that a man who proclaimed his own aversion to speaking – because it was “too much work” – would even bother saying anything to his rival who just happened to walk into to the same establishment as him and took the liberty to sit on a neighboring barstool, _short of_ telling him to go away.

Still, Suoh didn’t bother looking his way. He stared immediately ahead of him at nothing in particular, holding a glass empty with the exception of crushed ice lined with the residue of some unidentifiable type of liquor.

The dim, mellow lighting of the bar dribbled cadences of soft yellowish tone through Suoh’s hair, and those amber eyes shone richly without any hint of frenzy. The man seemed oddly at peace, and Munakata would probably remember the vague thought that briefly pervaded his mind – that maybe there was a lot to this man that would make a fine acquaintance, maybe Suoh Mikoto was in fact very _interesting_ – for years to come.

As a tangible smile danced across Munakata’s own lips, the other man set the glass down on the bar with a light _clank_ , ice clinking together in a wind chime-like tune. He directed an up-and-down gaze at Munakata, as if he had noticed something strange, if only for a few seconds before the bartender walked over to attend to their orders.

They drank in silence for a couple of minutes before it became slightly uncomfortable for Munakata, who began pondering over what he should say or if sustained quiet was the optimal choice here . . .

“You’re out of uniform . . .”

_Quite a redundant statement to break the silence with._

Munakata raised his eyebrows slightly, in the usual fashion that could be seen whenever he was about to repudiate someone. “It’s not work hours, Suoh. Otherwise, would you seriously expect to find me in a bar?”

Suoh shrugged casually. “Kind-of figured any hour was work hour for you people. Thought you wouldn’t be caught dead out of uniform – in public, at least. But whatever.”

“Do you always make such unsubstantiated assumptions?” Munakata retorted.

“Didn’t really think it was unsubstantiated . . . That’s what all of HOMRA says, anyways. Were you insulted or something?”

“I find it surprising that you even know what the word _unsubstantiated_ means. Or do you?” Munakata turned his head Suoh’s way, tilting it slightly, an innocent smirk dancing across his lips.

“See, now _you’re_ making an unsubstantiated assumption about me.” Munakata noticed the side of the other man’s mouth quirk up into an almost-grin, even as he kept his gaze averted like he had for the whole short duration of their time here. Suoh persistently stared straight ahead, except for the brief moment when he took the time to examine Munakata’s casual attire. And even still, he didn’t bother to make any level of eye contact.

“Well, I certainly never rendered it an unsubstantiated assumption . . . It’s the way all of SCEPTER 4 looks at you, anyways. And if you find that insulting, well, I suppose that’s just too bad.”

Suoh grinned vociferously now, turning his head, and for the first time that night, amber met violet. “Nah. That stuff doesn’t really bother me.”

Munakata’s stomach did a flip. It was a strange feeling. Strange, therefore dangerous. But . . . what was the harm in a flippant chat with someone, ally or otherwise? He had made it a habit to socialize with his subordinates, so what was the difference here? He brushed his own reason-driven conscience’s admonition away and chose to overlook the novel sensation in his gut.

The two began to talk in aimless conversation that one would find perfectly normal for any person to hold with another.

Suoh talked mostly about his Clansmen. It turned out that he and Kusanagi (whom Suoh called by his given name, Izumo, Munakata noted) had been friends all through their later school years, and Kusanagi had bought the bar he ran, HOMRA (which Munakata more or less assumed had been the source for the name of the Red Clan), right after high school. Suoh didn’t quite understand Kusanagi’s overt passion for such things, and the thing cost a colossal fortune to import all the way from England, but he didn’t really mind it in the end because it had a nice atmosphere and was his prime choice for a setting in which to sleep, he said. He also expressed his opinion of Totsuka’s hopelessness and briefly mentioned Anna, the anomalous little girl with the beautiful, morose eyes that Munakata had once seen clinging to Suoh’s arm.

It was nothing more than a transitory period of discourse, with Munakata making a few polite inquiries in between.

Suoh directed a blithe glance Munakata’s way. “Thought you might know about all of that already . . .”

Munakata replied with another raise of his eyebrows, “Why would you think that?”

He shrugged. “You guys’ve got files on anybody imaginable, right?”

“Yes, that is true, but,” Munakata adjusted his glasses, and continued with a slight hint of indignation, “that certainly doesn’t mean that I read through them for the sake of prurience. Any files such as that are only to be opened under certain stipulation.”

“Like what? Isn't the fact that we’re HOMRA stipulation enough?”

“No.” Munakata looked at Suoh almost blankly.

The other grinned back. “That’s the shortest reply I’ve ever heard you give, Munakata.”

“What about you? I thought you weren't one to talk gratuitously, but here we are.”

“Hmm . . .” Suoh tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, squinting somewhat under the hazy lights. “I guess some things depend, but I dunno.”

Munakata’s PDA went off in his shirt pocket, and with a quick apology in Suoh’s direction, he took it out to see that the call was from Awashima, so he promptly hit the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello, Munakata Reisi speaking.”

 _“Captain, this is Awashima Seri speaking. I am calling to inform you of a violent Strain causing trouble with the citizens in an area downtown. SCEPTER 4 requests that their captain aid in its capture.”_ Her voice was as calm and collected as ever on the surface, though she spoke quickly, sharply, with tense undercurrents lining her usual impersonal, authoritative tenor. Munakata could make out the sounds of a peculiar snarling and the turmoil of a crowd of people screaming in the background.

“You can't deal with it yourself, Awashima-kun?” Of course, he had often taken the initiative in incidents such as this, being King after all, but it was all in a day’s work for Lieutenant Awashima as well. And even with the presence of neither the Captain nor Lieutenant, the rest of SCEPTER 4 could almost always hold their own. At least, that was so after the selection of the current Blue King who was responsible for bringing SCEPTER 4 back to its feet in such an incredibly short period of time. In the end, the answer to his question was obviously ‘No,’ but questioning Awashima’s competence was an efficacious way to get a good elucidation of the severity of the matter at hand.

_“I regret to say that the Greens have gotten involved in this matter, Captain. I ascertained that it would be in the best interest of SCEPTER 4 if their Captain was present for the conflict that is probable to supervene.”_

“Ah, you should have just said so Awashima-kun. Please send me the precise location and I will arrive shortly.”

_“My apologies, Captain. Would you like me to send for someone to collect you?”_

“No, I believe I can arrive quickly enough on my own. Goodbye.”

In truth, Munakata wasn’t in any great deal of a hurry. Although Strains didn’t cause immediate problems too terribly often, it was characteristic of the Greens to get involved in SCEPTER 4’s business, and the whole ordeal probably had something to do with the Rabbits. And, in Munakata’s diminutive yet incredibly substantial experience, it always came to be spot-on that when the big dogs started something, it was no big deal, as paradoxical as that might have sounded to someone ignorant of the definitive government.

He stood up abruptly. “I apologize. A matter has arisen that I must attend to.”

Suoh, who had readopted his customary forward gaze, replied in a tone that was almost jesting, “See, every hour really is work hour for you.”

Munakata pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again. “I suppose that it would be more accurate to say that it is not predetermined what hour might become a work hour. Thank you for the pleasant company. Goodbye.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

As Munakata left the pay for his drink on the bar, not caring about the excessive amount of change he left, and briskly walked outside into the still, late-evening air, the sad truth discerned by Suoh’s parting reply sunk in as he realized that they inevitably would see each other again, but, more likely than not, as enemy Kings with conflicting views of justice, staring each other down and waiting to see when the other would strike.

But why did that make him so sad? The Blue King never let anything make him sad. It was an emotion he couldn’t afford to have, among countless others.

He was aware of that when he decided to sit down by the Red King without a second thought, which was so unlike him to begin with. And he and Suoh both understood the full effects of having a civilized conversation with someone, as if they were an acquaintance rather than an enemy, just because the situation allowed it.

Or so he had thought.

The Fourth and Blue King had things to attend to, none of which involved the Third and Red King, so of course he had no motive as to any thought of the man for the time being.

That’s what he told himself as he checked the location of the current incident on his PDA and punctually trotted away in the opposite direction of the bar, not once taking the liberty to look back, because why would he?

END

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, poor Reisi is definitely in the Nile here.  
> It seems everything I write for my favorite pairings is so angsty! Not that that’s a bad thing (I’m addicted to angst), but I think MikoRei definitely deserves happy fics after what it’s been through.   
> *remembers season one finale and cries*  
> I want to shoot for something optimistic for these two, although some level of angst will be inevitable. Thank you very much for reading (We can all cry together)!


End file.
